Hello folks, and welcome back to Wrong Every Time. Today I’m eager to return to Yuki Yuna is a Hero, after an episode that saw the other shoe plummeting to earth and leaving a devastating crater in its wake. As it turns out, the Taisha knew all along that our young heroes would be forced to fight again, that they would acquire lasting, debilitating injuries from this hero labor, and that they would eventually be reduced to utter dependency, as one after another of their limbs or senses were sacrificed as offerings to the Divine Tree. There are no old soldiers in this system; only used-up figures of worship, deified for sacrifices they never knew they were making.
As horrible as this is for our girls on the ground, it’s nonetheless a fascinating thematic turn, tethering Yuki Yuna’s magical girl and martial elements together through their common thread: how both young women and old soldiers are misused by society, ostensibly venerated but often materially denied and despised. Like so many other eager young patriots, these girls’ innocent love of their home has been turned against them, exploited for the sake of a system that consumes lives and produces martyrs, all to ensure the next wave of victims is properly motivated. It’s a rich and deliciously cynical turn, and I’m eager to see how our team responds to these shocking reveals. Let’s get to it!
Episode 9
In spite of everything, the town still looks as peaceful as ever. Grey skies hang over watercolor fields and farms that once promised normalcy and safety, but which now provide a bitter contrast with the assumed fates of our heroes
The first to learn the truth is of course their leader Fu. God, I wonder how Karin’s going to take it, or if she’ll even accept it as true
“So we’re not going to get better?” Whether your scars are physical or mental, this seems to be the inescapable truth of war: it always takes something from you, always leaves an unfillable absence in its wake
Man, really wasn’t expecting Togo’s goofy war otaku affectation to be foreshadowing these reflections on the use of propaganda and inescapable costs of war. I underestimated you, Yuki Yuna!
“Those Who Know Grief”
Fu advises them not to frighten the others until they know for sure. And then, of course, the rain begins to fall, our heroes’ grief cast upon the world at large
“The others haven’t been here with you lately.” As a news report speaks of more “natural” environmental damage presumably caused by the vertexes, the server at the gang’s usual restaurant remarks on their increasing dissolution. Like the scenery outside, another icon of normalcy that now only highlights how much things have changed
“I’ll be like ‘waah’ and transfer my girl power to them!” As always, Fu provides an exaggerated performance of cheer to keep things upbeat
“And then, when my friends get all better… we’ll all come by again.” Even her attempts at cheer end up reminding her that nothing will ever be the same again
Back at school, Itsuki turns down her friends’ offer to hang out, telling Fu that they actually like karaoke. What a knife in the gut, that one – Itsuki had just gained the confidence to sing, just gained control of her own voice, and then immediately had it stolen by the responsibilities Fu forced upon her. How can she tell her sister that this will now last forever?
Though Itsuki smiles, it’s clear she now sees herself as a burden to the people around her, which of course weighs on Fu in turn
And then Itsuki’s teacher takes Fu aside, discussing how Itsuki’s condition is affecting her ability to engage in the curriculum. All these painful, mundane consequences of their glorious triumph in battle – that conflict lasted for mere minutes, but its scars will impact their lives forever. Love how the show’s prioritizing all these second-order effects, the things you might not consider in the heat of battle
Also appreciate this episode’s distinct use of sound design – namely, its intentional lack of any background music, and muted sound cues. In a general sense, the lack of music offering distraction or tonal signifiers creates a greater sense of vulnerability or immediacy – our interactions with the characters are unmediated by distancing dramatic cues. And in a more specific sense, cutting the music further emphasizes the silence of the Inubozaki household, which was previously filled with the conversation of Itsuki and Fu
“You’d better carry an umbrella in your bag. You never know when it might rain.” Fu does her best to both keep up the conversation and maintain her position as guardian, even as she’s secretly lamenting her absolute failure to keep Itsuki safe
Itsuki further attempts to lighten the mood by referring to things they still have to look forward to, like the school festival performance. But this too has been tainted by their hero duties, as Itsuki can no longer take any speaking role. None of this is going to go away, and nothing will be easy from here out
“I’m sure it’ll come back before the Culture Festival.” And she ultimately resorts to straight-up lying, offering a comforting hope that will only make eventually revealing what she now knows all the harder
“It’ll definitely improve. I mean, we haven’t done anything wrong.” Could the world be this senseless? Could our leaders be so heartless? Fu is learning the cold truth that awaits so many returning soldiers
And still the Taisha offers no response
Togo calls Yuna and Fu to her house to reveal that something else Nogi told them was also true: they cannot die, or even cause harm to themselves
“Over these past days, I’ve attempted suicide over ten times.” So was she just experimenting, or was this initially her chosen response to learning the Taisha only ever needed them for fuel? Togo obviously does not clarify
“The fairies act without regard to our will.” The fairies are not accommodating familiars, they are their jailers, tasked with ensuring they don’t hurt themselves before they can be sacrificed for the Divine Tree
Yep, Togo suspects the same – and given that’s the case, it’s fair to assume Nogi’s other proclamations are also true, and their injuries will never subside
“We were kept in the dark and deceived.” Togo is the first to grasp the full implications of Nogi’s words, the Taisha’s complicity in this cycle
And with Togo having declared it, it at last becomes real to Fu – both the reality that Itsuki’s voice is never coming back, and the ensuing understanding that it was all her fault, all because she let Itsuki join the hero club
Rather than answer Fu’s question, the Taisha instead leans on Karin, telling her that “the others are psychologically unstable.” Of course it would exploit her passion
Oh my god, it’s so cruel. Fu receives a call from a music production company, announcing that Itsuki has passed her vocal auditions. The life she had planned for herself is awaiting her, but she cannot pursue it, having had the vehicle of her dreams stolen by her loyalty to her sister
In Itsuki’s empty room, Fu finds a list of things her sister wants to do when she gets her voice back, alongside research for a variety of methods to restore your voice. She hasn’t given up hope at all, but Fu alone understands that her cause is hopeless. This goddamn show!
“By working towards becoming a singer, I want to find my own way to live my life. I have an older sister whom I love very much. She’s strong and independent. Everyone always looks to her as a leader.” By following her sister into the hero club, Itsuki lost her route to independence, to claiming for herself the pride she feels in having Fu as a sister
“I want to have my own dream. I want to live my own life. That’s why I’m aiming to become a singer.”
Itsuki’s proud reflections on how much she’s grown because of the Hero Club are contrasted against the Taisha’s sterile response, promising Fu that they have every expectation of a successful recovery. Even their bonds as sisters and friends were exploited, used to usher them towards this cruel sacrifice
A brutally convincing expression of grief as Fu grapples with what she’s done, stumbling across the room and breaking into tears as Itsuki’s audition begins. This episode isn’t fair at all!
“I hope these days go on forever.” Even Itsuki’s song is about the joy she found in the Hero’s Club
And thus Fu rushes off to destroy the Taisha, with Karin swiftly pursuing her, all under the warm glow of Itsuki’s song of friendship. Everything’s fine, everything’s great, we’re going to get through this
“Is this what we get for saving the world!?” With Fu completely lost in her anger, Yuna dives in to protect Karin
“Even if we’d known about the after-effects, we still would have fought in the end!” Yuna at last truly proving her heroism, acknowledging she was always willing to sacrifice herself for the sake of others. Many might have to be insincerely compelled, but not Yuna
“But if I’d known, I would never have dragged you all into this!” Fu is the most angry at herself; she can accept her own sacrifices, but cannot forgive herself for allowing Itsuki and the others to come to harm on her account
In the end, it is of course Itsuki who Fu is fighting for, and thus only Itsuki who can forgive her, and halt this senseless violence
And Done
How dare you, Yuki Yuna! This show has gotten me at last, with Itsuki’s embrace and Fu’s shuddering sobs bringing me to tears as well. To say nothing of that incredible sound design – in retrospect, the relative silence of this episode’s first half feels all the more impactful, with the entire episode essentially constructed around the performance of Itsuki’s final song. The ED even serves as a eulogy for her ambitions, now directly contextualized as Itsuki singing to the group who inspired her confidence, her dream. How the passion of the young, their sincere desire to do right by each other and the home they love, can be ruthlessly exploited by this world’s alleged caretakers… Yuki Yuna has at last revealed its true nature, and left me sniffling at the poignance and cruelty of it all. I agree with Fu! Down with the Taisha!
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